


Would You Call Me If You Were High?

by strangethewriter



Category: Shatter Me Series - Tahereh Mafi
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Just a little tho, Love Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Smut, don't take this one seriously it was just for fun, i fell asleep on top of you oops, i really thought this was going to be max 2k words lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangethewriter/pseuds/strangethewriter
Summary: "I kneel down in front of her, cradling her face between my palms. 'Juliette, love, are you all right?' I ask, even though the answer to that question is obvious, I just want her to be aware of my presence.She looks up startled, her eyes struggling to focus on my own. She shakes her head. 'My—my face it’s moving,' she says, panicked. 'I c—I can’t stop it.'I look up at Kenji without letting go of her. 'How much did she have?''Too much.'"In which Juliette goes to a party, eats something she shouldn't have, and Warner takes care of her until the effect comes off.
Relationships: Juliette Ferrars/Aaron Warner
Comments: 7
Kudos: 60





	Would You Call Me If You Were High?

**Author's Note:**

> Don't do drugs kids

**Warner - 12:20 am**

The car pulls up in front of the house to which Kenji send me the address of. The faint sound of music playing from the inside of the house travels all the way to where I’m standing outside. I shut the door behind me as I thank the driver. I don’t bother knocking the door when I reach it, I doubt someone had the sense to lock it either way.

I’m immediately hit with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and other fluids of dubious origins. I forge forward through the mass of bodies invading the too-small space looking for the only person here whom I care about. Before I can spot her though, a voice calls for me from the other corner of the room.

“Hey yo, Warner!” Kenji yells, jumping up and down and waving his hands around erratically—as if he didn’t already stand taller than most people in the room. I make my way toward him trying not to brush against the people walking around me.

He says “Thank God you’re here, man,” and when I finally reach him, I see her. She’s sitting on the couch, her knees pressed up against her chest, which is rising and falling at a quicker than usual rate. Her eyes are red and wide open as she stares at some point in the distance. She doesn’t seem to realize that I’m here. “She’s freaking out and I don’t really know what to do with her.”

I kneel down in front of her, cradling her face between my palms. “Juliette, love, are you all right?” I ask, even though the answer to that question is obvious, I just want her to be aware of my presence. 

She looks up startled, her eyes struggling to focus on my own. She shakes her head. “My—my face is moving,” she says, panicked. “I c—I can’t stop it.”

I look up at Kenji without letting go of her. “How much did she have?”

“Too much.”

**Juliette - 10:00 pm**

I walk aimlessly through the party looking for something to entertain myself with while Kenji is gone. We arrived together as we usually do to this sort of thing. I became his unofficial designated driver even since I swore off alcohol after that one time I drank a little bit too much and ended up crying in the bathroom with my hair many inches shorter. 

That was a terrible way to discover I am a huge lightweight. 

We talked to a couple of friends for a while, but everyone quickly paired off and went to either the makeshift dance floor or the pool outside. Nazeera came about an hour after we did, and Kenji left to talk to her, promising to come back later. I paid it no mind, he’s been crushing on her for a while now, _hard,_ so I try to encourage him to go after her whenever he cans. I know she likes him too, even though she tends to be a little more reserved with her feelings. 

So now I’m walking around this party by myself. I don’t mind though being on my own though—unless one of the guys from the football team comes to try to hit on me, that always ruins the fun. It’s always an interesting experience to people-watch in settings like this. So I lean back against the wall and do exactly that. 

**Juliette - 11:15 pm**

As one naturally does when bored, I start to compulsively eat whatever food I find in front of me. People-watching got kind of old when people started to change from fun drunk to messy drunk. People dancing and singing off-key turned to couples bickering at each other and destruction of property. I have seen at least three people throw up into the sink, and it’s not even midnight yet. I spotted Kenji and Nazeera earlier, I was tempted to join them but they seemed to be hitting it off, so I didn’t want to kill the mood. I really don’t need to hear Kenji complain about his love life again; I love the guy but he has a flair for the dramatic. A lot of gall he has to make fun of me for mine I’d say. 

I sit down on the floor and scroll through my phone for a while, exhausting all of my social media and resisting the urge to text Aaron. He doesn’t come to parties very often—if ever, but I know his sleep schedule is more than a little bit messed up and he’s most likely still awake. But I also know he had some work to get done this weekend for a project so I don’t want to disturb him. I look at the last texts he sent me. 

Aaron: have fun, Juliette

he says,

and please be careful, call me if you need anything.

I smile to myself at it, feeling a warmth spread from my chest right up my face. It’s impossible to deny that we have _something_ going on. Kenji teases me about it constantly. But the truth is that I’m afraid of pursuing anything with him, at least at the moment. Not because of anything that he did or I did; but not too long ago he went through a pretty rough break-up with his girlfriend of two years. We all knew Aaron didn’t like her much—to be quite frank none of us did—, that it was his dad—fucked up, I know—who had basically forced him into that relationship. Some sort of bullshit business connection. She was also a girl he approved of, and I’m, well, _not_. He doesn’t approve of my political views—which are, of course, the exact opposite of his given that he is a terrible fucking person—and the people I hang out with, people who he calls “a bunch of good for nothing punks.” He chooses to ignore Warner’s views and friendships—which are basically the same as mine—for the sake of maintaining his image of a loving and supportive father when he is anything but. 

I think we’re both secretly waiting to make the first move when we’re both in college and finally away from this whole drama. We’ve both been accepted into universities in New York City, him Columbia—naturally—for Political Science _and_ Sociology and I NYU for English Literature. Well, I’m not sure I should even say _first_ move. There was of course that time we ended up making out in his car after one of his baseball games when one of the tires of his car got punctured while driving me home and we had to wait in the middle of nowhere for a tow truck to come because he didn’t have a replacement. But that is another story. Not even Kenji knows about that. Aaron and I haven’t talked about that night since and, needless to say, the tension between us has...increased ever since. In the best and worst of ways. At least I know for sure he likes me and that I wasn’t playing myself thinking that _those_ looks meant something. But now every time he looks at me like that I feel a tightness in all of my body that I can’t easily dissipate. 

I sigh to myself trying to shake the not so pure thoughts from my head and make a move to get back on my feet. It is when I stand up that I suddenly realize that I feel sick. Not the usual type of sick I get when I think too much about Aaron’s and I’s predicament, _sick_ sick. 

The elevated heart-rate I had shrugged off as getting anxious about the situation feels different. My head is fuzzy and my vision a little distorted. Everything looks...bright. Abnormally so. I think I’m breathing funny. I immediately try to remember everything I drank. I didn’t leave my drink unattended. The taste of the punch wasn’t off at any point. There were no half-dissolved pills at the bottom of my cup. No, it couldn’t have been a roofie. Could it?

I don’t feel like I’m falling asleep, I’m not even a little tired. 

I’m mildly relieved that probably someone didn't dump a date rape drug on my drink and further concerned because I have no idea what is happening.

If it wasn’t the drink then what?

The food. There was something definitely on the food. 

And then I realize.

_Fuck._

**Juliette - 11:47 pm**

I scan the room looking for Kenji and Nazeera and I quickly spot them by the chimney in the living room. I make my way toward them, grabbing Kenji’s arms when I reach them. “Hey, Naz,” I say, the pitch on my voice a little higher than usual. “Do you mind if I steal him for a little?”

“Hey, J,” a concerned smile on her face. I guess I’m no good at hiding my freaked out expression. “Sure,” she says slurring the word, “go ahead.”

I pull Kenji away before the words are fully out of her mouth yet. 

“What the hell, J? What’s wrong?”

When we’re out of earshot I turn to him, “Is it possible,” I begin making vague motions with my hands, “that there was any type of uhh... _recreational_ drug...in the food?”

His eyes widen almost comically. “ _What? What food?_ Jesus Christ, princess, what did you eat?”

I point toward the kitchen island, where a lot of food is arranged in different color plates. “A lot of that.”

**Juliette - 11:51 pm**

We’re locked in the bathroom. 

“Open your mouth,” he says, lifting two of his hand—two of his fingers outstretched—toward my face. 

I slap his hand away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going to make you throw up so you don’t start tripping, genius, what else?”

I cock my head. “Put your fingers inside my mouth, Kishimoto, I dare you.”

“Well, what the hell else do you want me to do? I’m not gonna stick that nasty toothbrush down your throat!” he says pointing at the toothbrush sitting in a cup on the sink. 

“I’m _not_ throwing up!” I snap. “I _hate_ throwing up.”

“You’re going to hate what’s about to happen _way_ more, princess.”

I lean back against the sink. “It’s too late, Kenji,” I say. “I already feel it.”

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I’m too drunk for this. Shit, shit, _shit, what do we do?_ ”

“I have to go home, like, now.”

He nods. “Yeah, yeah, you should do that. Sleep it off.” Then, “No wait, you can’t drive like that, it’s not going to end well.”

“I’ll take an Uber.”

He crosses his arms. “You’re really out of your mind if you think I’m going to let you go on an Uber by yourself at this hour and on this state,” he says. “I’ll come with you.”

I nod. “Yeah.” Wait. No. “But my car,” I say. “I can’t just leave it here.”

“Nazeera can drive it back,” he says. “No, hold on. She’s been drinking too, that’s not happening.”

“What if you come back and get my car?”

“And do what with it, genius? I _just_ said I was drunk, what’s not clicking?”

God, why do we share a single functioning brain cell at this precise moment?

“Screw it,” I say. “Let’s just leave it here, it’ll be fine.” 

Kenji hesitates. “I don’t know, J, these kids get pretty crazy. I don’t want your parents going off on you because someone keyed your car.”

My stomach turns at the thought.

“The hell do I do then? I will not have a bad trip at Jenkins’ house of all people.”

“Yeah, why are we even here?” he asks.

“Not the point, Kenji!”

“Right.” His head snaps up. “Warner!” he exclaims. “He’s like the only other person that we know that’s _definitely_ sober on a Friday night.”

Yes! Wait. _No._ I begin shaking my head rapidly. I can feel the effects of whatever drug I ingested increase. I’m getting panicky. “No. No, he can’t see me like this.”

“What? Come on, J, why?”

I gesture at the whole of me. “ _No!_ ”

“The guy’s already in love with you, do you really think he’s gonna care? Believe me, the only thing he’s going to get upset at is if I do nothing. I don’t want to get my ass beat, thank you very much.”

“No, Kenji, please. I really rather my parents yell at me.”

But he’s already pulling out his phone.

**Warner - 12:22 pm**

“I have to take her to the hospital,” I say. 

“No, man,” Kenji interjects. “If her parents find out they’re going to kill her. She isn’t even really supposed to be here.”

Right, her lousy parents. I know Juliette tries to downplay how bad they can be to her. She does so we don’t worry too much about her. But I always do. Of course I do. 

“I’ll take her home then,” I say. “But if she so much as throws up I’m taking her, I don’t care.”

I’m gathering Juliette’s things as Kenji keeps muttering _thank yous_ at me. 

“It’s okay, Kenji,” I say, slightly exasperated. “You did the responsible thing.” 

For once. 

For as much as I criticize his antics, I respect him. I respect especially how much he cares for Juliette. I’m happy she has a friend that she can rely on like she does on him.

“I’m going to pull you up, love,” I say to Juliette, who’s still sitting on the couch, her eyes looking in every direction now. “Can you stand?”

“On my feet?” she asks, her voice slurred and barely audible over the music of the ongoing party. 

I turn to Kenji, “Why don’t you go ahead and open her car?” I ask. “I’ll have to hold her up.”

“Yes, sir,” he says with a mock salute and then runs outside. 

Nevermind the respect. 

“Okay, love,” I say softly as I wrap her arm around my shoulders and pull her into a standing position. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

Her limbs immediately go from limp to rigid. She latches into my side, as if trying to climb me up. “What—what are you doing?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” I say. “It’s me, Aaron. I’m just here to take you home.”

“Aaron?” she asks turning to look at me.

“Yes.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m going to walk now, okay? Walk with me.”

She nods and follows my steps, her feet sometimes retreating as if jumping away from something. 

We get to her car, where Kenji already open the passenger side door. I slide her inside, putting her seatbelt on and shutting the door. 

I walk around the front of the car and get into the driver's seat, looking for the keys inside of Juliette’s bag. I hear a knock on the window and turn around to see Kenji’s face pressed up against the window. “Keep me updated, please!”

I nod as I pull the keys out, turn on the ignition, and drive away. 

**Warner - 12:50 am**

Juliette spends the whole car ride mumbling unintelligibly about her face, gripping the door handle so hard her knuckles turn white. It’s clear she’s hallucinating, about what remains unclear to me. Her physical condition doesn’t seem to be getting any worse, which is a huge relief to me.

I resist the urge to drive faster than usual to get her home safely. Eventually, after what feels like a year, and probably longer than that to her, we pull over in front of her house. 

I step out of the car, walking around to get Juliette out. She’s walking a little bit easier now, but the moment her eyes focus on her house she digs the feet into the ground halting us to a stop. “No,” she says, her voice hoarse and scared. “No, my parents are going to kill me.”

I’m once again hit with loathing. Every time she reacts like this, in fear of her parents’ reaction so whatever insignificant and inconsequential mistake that she makes, I’m filled with an utter sense of powerlessness. Only a few people know how detrimental her parents have been to her emotionally. How much she has struggled with her image and self-worth and how her parents’ lack of support during a particularly bad stage in her life just contributed even more to her deteriorating mental state. She has been making incredible progress in the past year. Nothing like the girl I met a few years back. She stands up for herself more. She’s happy often. Most of the time even. Has her lows of course, but they never last long. She’s had some counseling, but I think a lot of it can also be attributed to the people she hangs out with now. She didn’t have many—if any—friends before, but now she has a whole support system. But of course, her change has been almost entirely due to herself. I don’t know exactly what she did, what clicked in her brain that made her be able to see the amazing young woman she is. But I’m glad she did. I’m glad she can recognize the value in herself now.

But right now she looks closer to the version of herself I met in freshman year.

“Can we—can we go somewhere else?” she asks.

“Your parents aren’t here, love,” I say trying to comfort her.

“Really?”

“Yes. You told us, remember? They were going to go to those conferences in Oregon and were not coming back until Monday.”

She looks away for a minute, then her body relaxes. “Oh,” she says. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s go inside then.”

**Warner - 2:45 am**

She’s been sitting on her bed, legs crossed, barely moving, and without saying a word for almost two hours now. I had to take her phone away from her because she tried to call the police on herself at some point in her hallucinatory state. She occasionally jumps in response to a shadow of a bird flying by or a distant noise, but in all, I think her hallucinations are fading. I googled her symptoms, and they match what Kenji and I assumed to be cannabis. I was worried she had consumed something that could have potentially been laced with a more dangerous drug, but by the looks of it, it was the harmless stuff. It is hard to know how much of it she had, and taking into consideration the fact that she is about a hundred and ten pounds and has no experience with drugs, it is not surprising that she had a bad reaction to it. But, if the information I procured online was indeed correct, the worst of it might pass soon. 

“Juliette?” I ask testing the waters.

She gasps, turning to look it my direction, her eyes widening when she sees me. “Oh,” she says. “You’re here.”

Silence.

“I thought you left,” she says. “It was so quiet.”

“Of course I didn’t leave, love. I’m looking after you.”

“Why are you so far?”

I stand up from her desk chair on the opposite side of her room and walk over to sit next to her on the bed. “Better?”

She nods slowly. Then, “Are the birds gone?”

“Birds?” 

“There were so many of them, flying around like crazy,” she says, looking at me like I’m crazy. “I couldn’t move cause if I did they would see me. You didn’t see them?”

“Oh, right, those birds,” I pretend to remember, it’ll probably less upsetting to her if I just follow along. “Yes, they’re gone.”

“Okay.”

I take a deep breath. “Do you want to go to sleep?” I ask.

She nods again.

“Okay,” I say, pulling her up to her feet again. “You need to wash up and to get out of these clothes first.”

Another nod. 

After looking around for it, I grab some sleeping clothes from one of her drawers and hand it to her as I direct her to the bathroom. 

“Put these on,” I instruct her. “I’ll wait for you out here, okay?”

Without a word she disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

I count the seconds she is inside, paying close attention to the sounds that come out of the bathroom. The water of the faucet starts to run. There is some fumbling. At some point she knocks something off the counter, but nothing that grants worry. 

The door suddenly opens. 

The hair around her face is wet—probably from her washing her face—but also the ends of it—as if her hair had fallen into the stream of water as she leaned down over the bathroom sink. She is still wearing the same dress she was wearing when she stepped inside. A red and flowy thing with tiny flowers all over it that accentuates her every feature beautifully. The clothes I gave her, along with her black tights and leather jacket, are rumpled on the tile floor. Her eyes are a little watery when she says “I can’t take this off, Aaron, can you help me?” 

She turns around, pointing at the small bow on the back of her dress. The zip stuck in the fabric halfway down her back. It looks like she tried to undo the tie but tied it tighter instead somehow. I step inside the bathroom with her, suddenly nervous. My hands are shaking as I reach up to undo the tie on her back.

I’ve thought countless times of doing something exactly like this with her. But doing it in this context makes me feel guilty. Makes me feel terrible about being so horribly attracted to her at this very moment. Makes me want to cut my own hands off for relishing the brief moment when my skin touches hers. She’s under the effects of a drug, acting like she wouldn’t act if she wasn’t. She wouldn’t be asking me to help her undress if she wasn’t dazed. I shouldn’t be thinking of leaning down and pressing a kiss on her spine. I shouldn’t be even _looking_ at her like this when she didn’t explicitly consent it while in full control of mind and body. 

So I don’t. I cut off every thought and look up at the ceiling, the bright whiteness of the light bulb blurring the world as I blindly tug at the fabric of her dress until I feel the tie come undone. Then I reach for her zip and tug it, careful as to not rip the material, until it releases from where it was stuck and pull it the rest of the way down.

“There you go, love,” I say softly, still looking directly at the light. “Can you handle the rest on your own?” 

She turns around, the expression on her face unsure. “Can you just hold on to me?” she asks reaching for my hand. “I feel a little unsteady.”

I sigh, my chest tight. “Yes, love.”

She giggles a little.

“What?” I ask as she reaches down to grab her pajamas from the floor. 

She shakes her head. “Nothing,” she says and I swear I can almost hear her smile. “I just like it when you call me that.”

_I’m going to die in this bathroom._

**Warner - 3:15 am**

All of the lights in the room are off, but the curtain remains open, the light of the streetlamp softly illuminating the room. Juliette’s lying on her bed, her profile softened by the warm light. She’s been talking to herself for the last twenty minutes. Most of the things she says come out as unintelligible mumbling, the words that I can make out are equally nonsensical. 

My phone vibrates on my pocket, distracting me from Juliette’s not so inner monologue. I take it out, reading the text illuminating my screen.

Kishimoto: howi s she?

Kenji asks. Another text pops up, then another.

Kishimoto: how is*

Kishimoto: Juliette I mean

I roll my eyes and text back:

Me: Better. She’s in bed now, I’m waiting for her to go to sleep. I’m going to spend the night here to make sure she’s fine.

Kishimoto: okay word. you the GOAT

Kishimoto: txt me if you need anything!!!!

Kishimoto: let me kno when she wakes up tomrrow

I silence my phone and place it face down on Juliette’s desk. I fix my gaze on her again. She’s stopped talking to herself and she’s now running her fingers through the fabric of her blanket and the texture of her pillows. 

“Is it normal that they feel like this?” she asks suddenly.

“How, love?”

She ponders for a second. “Like...normal...but a lot,” she says.

“Heightened senses are a side effect of cannabis,” I say, wondering if I interpreted her concerns correctly.

“Huh?” she asks.

“That things might feel more intense right now.”

“Oh, okay,” she sighs, grabbing a bundle of her blanket in her fist and lifting it up to show me. “This is _really_ soft. Do you want to touch it?”

I chuckle to myself. “I’m okay, love. I believe you.”

She sits up then, turning on her bedside lamp. “I’ll read to you then,” she says as she grabs the book sitting on her bedside table. A worn copy of _War & Peace. _She opens it to the page she left off and clears her throat. She stares at the page for a few seconds without saying anything and I begin to wonder if she has forgotten to say the words at loud when she says, “Nevermind, I can’t read for shit,” and drops the book back on the table. 

I laugh again. Can’t help it. It is unusual, to put it lightly, for her to act like this. She is usually very levelheaded. 

“What should we do then?” she asks. 

“Maybe you should go to sleep,” I say as I walk over to turn her light back off.

She yawns and says “I’m not tired.”

“Always so stubborn, love.” 

She jumps out of bed, stumbling as she does. “Wait, let me show you something really cool. I’ll go to sleep after, I promise.”

She reaches under her bed and pulls out a globe-like apparatus. She grabs the electrical cord hanging off on one side and plugs it into the wall, walks to the middle of the room, taking the globe with her, and sits down. She pats the spot on the floor next to her. “Come sit,” she says.

Once I do, she flicks a switch on her little machine, making the room filling up with color. I look up at the ceiling where the little globe is projecting a series of lights made to simulate a night sky. Swatches of blue, red, and purple light forming galaxy-like clouds across the room.

“Oh shit,” Juliette says. “That looks way more intense than I was expecting.” 

All of a sudden, her hand is on my cheek and I have to stop my breath from catching. “They’re on your face,” she says, running her fingers along my jaw and down my neck and back up to my check and I clench my fists at my side to stop myself from reaching for her. “Can you feel them?” she asks, poking her fingers deeper into my skin.

I’m unable to speak. The smallest of touch and this girl has rendered me completely useless. 

I shake my head no.

“Oh,” she says, sounding a little disappointed. 

“They’re on your face, too,” I whisper.

She puts both hands on her own face then, burying her fingers into her checks. The spot on my face where her hand was resting before going cold.

“I bought it off an ad on Instagram,” she says. “It probably wasn’t a good idea to do that. I got scammed once. But it turned out okay. It’s very pretty, no?”

“Yes,” I say, unable to stop looking at her.

She looks up again and just stares at the ceiling for a while. The room is so quiet I can hear her breathing. 

After a few minutes, her eyes begin to close, her head falling forward. I take her hand and try to pull her up with me as I stand up, “Okay, love. You really need to go to bed now.”

She shakes her head. 

“You’re already falling asleep.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” she mumbles. “I hate being alone.”

“Yes, love, I’ll be here.”

She nods and then proceeds to half-walk, half-crawl back to bed. Then, finally, she gets under the covers and almost immediately falls asleep. 

**Warner - 10:14 am**

Around six in the morning, after I predicted that Juliette probably wasn’t going to wake up for another few hours, I went back to my house to take a shower, change clothes and pick up some things I needed. I also went to the store to buy some stuff for when she woke up—painkillers, food, and some drinks. I got back at quarter past seven and used her key to let myself inside. I dropped the food and drinks off in the kitchen and took a glass of water and the bottle of aspirins to her room. 

I stepped inside her bedroom, trying to make as little noise as possible. Just as I thought, she was still sound asleep on her bed. The sun was starting to come up so I closed the curtain so it wouldn’t disturb her. 

I pulled out my laptop from my bag and sat at her desk to get some work done while she continued to sleep. 

At around ten she began to stir.

Then, finally at 10:14 when I turn around to check on her again, she wakes. 

“Good morning, Juliette,” I say as she rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. 

She gasps. “Fuck. I forgot you were here. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault I’m dumb.”

Her comment makes me frown, but something tells me that if I try to refute her about self-deprecation she would not listen to me right now. I get up from the chair at her desk, my legs stiff from the lack of movement in the last few hours. I take the aspirins and water I left on her bedside table and hand them to her. She takes them with a quiet “thank you” and downs them both.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

She pulls her knees up to her chest, burying her head between her legs. “Like a mushroom,” she murmurs, her eyes focusing and unfocusing on her hands in front of her. 

Yes. Definitely still high.

“Is that good or bad?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, I just think that if mushrooms felt things this is what they would feel like...Wait, what if they _are_ sentient? We’ve never asked.”

**Warner - 12:11 pm**

Kishimoto: any updates on little miss sunshine?

Instead of writing back, I send him a picture of Juliette, who is currently lying on the floor blowing bubbles out of a bubble wand—which she refuses to tell me where she got it from, as it were a big secret. 

Kishimoto: we’ve lost her

One of the bigger bubbles pops, the soap mixture falling into one of Juliette’s open eyes. She sits up cursing. “Ow,” she says, blinking over and over. “So much for having fun.”

She closes the wand and throws is across the room. She looks so genuinely angry at it, it’s oddly endearing. She crosses her arms over her chest and, pouting, lies back down. 

“You are adorable,” I say to her. 

She blushes a little. “Thanks,” she says, shy. I want to kiss her smile.

“You know what else is adorable?” she asks.

“What?”

“Birds. I want a pet bird so bad. They freaking _speak!_ Who thought them how to do that? Oh, but then they would have to live in a cage. That’s so sad. They should be like...free, you know?”

“Yes, I agree,” I say as she nods. “What about a pet dog?”

She thinks about it for a second, her brows furrowing. “Yeah,” she says. “I would like a dog. My parents never let me had one because my dad’s allergic. Booo!”

“I would like a dog too, I was also never allowed to have one but I think it has more to do with my father being a bastard than with anything else.”

She boos louder. “ _We’ll_ have our own dog!” she says. “It will be our child. We’ll raise him to be a proper man...dog.”

For a moment I am enough of a fool to actually imagine it. She and I together. Our own home maybe. Something we can make a home out of. Just her and I. Plus a dog. But I am getting too ahead of myself. I don’t even know how things will be once we’re away from here. I’ve been hoping that we would find a way to be together then. But I’m not sure if that is what she wants. And if I’m to be completely honest with myself I’m tired of stringing this along already. I don’t want to keep waiting for things to be better. They might never be better than they are right now and I’m afraid I’m throwing my only chance with her away. 

The fact that she’s put up with me for so long already is outstanding to me. 

I decide to change the subject again. 

“Are you not hungry, Juliette?”

“Yeah,” she says sorrowfully. “But I don’t have any food. I didn’t go grocery shopping yet.”

“I brought you some food.”

Her eyes widen. “You did? How? Are you like a superhero?”

“No,” I say with a chuckle. “I drove my car.”

She somehow finds that more improbable than me being a superhero because she gasps and asks, _“How did your car get here?”_

“I’ll explain in the kitchen.”

**Warner - 9:35 pm**

Watching Juliette today has filled me a strange kind of joy. Of course, it was concerning to see her feel paranoid and confused, and I know what once she wakes up tomorrow, the effects of the drug finally gone, she is probably going to be terrible embarrassed. But I’ve enjoyed our time together today, it’s been a while since we’ve gotten to spend time like this, just the two of us. 

So far today I’ve watched her stare intently at things for prolonged periods of time, laugh and cry over God knows what videos she saw on her phone, try to organize her bookshelf in alphabetical order and fail miserably, and—most outstanding of all—list twenty-seven reasons as to why we should go on a road trip to Canada to see the northern lights. She only repeated one of the facts twice, which was impressive given her state. 

Now she was back in bed, freshly showered and a clean set of pajamas on. 

“Do you want to watch a movie with me?” she asks.

And I almost say yes to her immediately like I’ve done almost all day, but then I stop at the thought of having to sit through a movie right now. I haven’t slept a blink since 5 am on Friday. Not it was almost 10 pm on a Saturday. If I sit back and relax for a fraction of a second I'm going to fall asleep, and I’m not supposed to be asleep, I’m supposed to be taking care of her. So I say, “I don’t know, love. It’s getting late, maybe you should go to bed.”

“Late?” she asks sitting up to look at her phone. “It’s only 9:30, you never go to bed before midnight.”

“Not late,” I say. “Just late for a movie.”

“If you don’t want to you can just say no,” she says, and slumps back into her bed. 

“What, are you upset?” I ask.

One second goes by. Then two. Then three. Then, “No.” 

“You seem a little upset.” 

“Am not.”

“Liar liar pants on fire.” 

She suddenly kicks the blankets of herself, “Pants on _what?”_ she shrieks. 

I am next to her on half an instant. “Jesus Christ, Juliette,” I say holding her down. “It’s a saying, you are not on fire.” 

“Why would you say something like that? You know I’m paranoid right now!” she half yells.

“It’s a _saying.”_

“Why do people say that if it’s _not true?"_

I throw my hands up, “I don’t know! It rhymes!” 

And there’s something about that that she finds hilarious, because her sudden fear or being on fire morphs into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh, you find that amusing?” I ask.

She nods, still laughing. “You’re funny.” 

I sit down on the bed next to her, try to put her blankets back in place. “I thought you weren’t as high anymore.” 

She sighs, “I did, too.”

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll be normal again.”

“ _Hey,”_ she says. “What do you mean ‘normal’?” 

Instead of answering that question I ask, “What movie do you want to watch?”

Her eyes instantly brighten. “Yeah?”

I nod. 

She thinks about it for a second. _“Moonrise Kingdom.”_

“Is that another cartoon?”

“I thought you liked _Tangled.”_

“I did not say I didn’t.” 

“Then why’d you say ‘cartoon’ like that, huh?”

I go get my laptop and come back to sit next to her again. “What was the name of the movie again?”

**Warner - 11:05 pm**

I haven’t paid attention to a single second of this movie. Not because it’s bad, I wouldn’t actually know if it was because I have not been looking at it. What I’m looking at is Juliette’s hand intertwined with mine, laying casually over my torso. 

After finding the movie she wanted to watch on a streaming platform, she made me lie down on the bed next to her. I kicked of my shoes and lied down, though I remained on top of the blankets while she was under them. Soon her head was resting on my shoulder, close enough for me to smell the scent of her shampoo. Before I knew it she was taking my hand in hers. She has been impossibly still for the last hour and a half, her eyes fixed on the computer screen. 

All the sounds coming from the computer stop and then a soft melody begins to play and I look up to see the credits of the movie begin to roll. 

“That was nice, no?” Juliette asks. 

I let out a simple “Mhmm,” hoping she won’t ask a single detail about the movie. 

I take my hand from hers to close my laptop and try to stand up when she asks, “Where are you going?”

I point back to her desk chair. 

“Are you not tired?” she asks with genuine concern. “Just sleep here with me, it’s fine.” 

“Juliette—“

“It’s okay,” she says. “I don’t bite.” 

I make to stand up again and she grabs my shirt trying to pull me back down.

“Aaron Warner you will sleep and that is an order.”

“I can very well sleep on the floor.” 

“But that is not _fun,”_ she says, rolling her eyes. 

God she’s relentless. 

Another reason why I love her. 

I turn around to face her directly, and with pretend frustration ask “If I lie down here will you stop being so demanding?” 

She nods, smiling big and bright.

I huff and settle back down into her pillow.

“You forgot to turn off the light,” she says, pointing at the lamp.

And now I actually laugh. 

I sit up, turn off the light and, once again lay down. “Happy?” I ask.

“Of course I am,” she says, lacing her hand in mine again. 

She moves someone closer and I begin to count the seconds before the falls asleep, intending to get out of bed as swiftly as possible once she does. But my eyelids are heavy, and her scent is intoxicating in the darkness. The weight of her head on my arm heavy like a thousand tons and her hand on mine a shackle that I never want to break free from. My eyes fall close involuntarily, and before I know it the world has already turned black. 

**Juliette - 6:15 am**

I wake up with one of my legs draped over Aaron’s legs. It takes me about four second to realize that fact, and another two for me to regret every single decision I have ever made.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck _fuck._

I hold my breath and slowly remove myself from on top of him, careful not to wake him up. I’m not so lucky. He’s already awake.

“Good morning, love,” he says.

Mortified. I’m so mortified I’m certain I’m going to drop deap from it. I groan in frustration and throw my hands over my face, turning around to bury my shame in between the pillows. I hear him chuckle and I get on my knees to hit him with my pillow.

“Oh my God, Aaron, why did you let me do all of that?”

He takes the pillow from my hands when I try to hit him again and says, “ _Let_ you? Love, I’m not sure I could’ve stopped you even if I tried.”

“Yes,” I say. “I’m sure it was all very amusing to you.”

“Most of it was, yes.”

I collapse face down into the mattress. “My self-esteem will never recover,” I murmur. 

“I promise I won’t hold it against you,” he says. I can hear his smirk behind his voice.

I lift my head to look at him. 

“I’m serious, Aaron,” I say, and I’m so stupidly embarrassed that my eyes brim with tears. “I’m—”

“Hey,” he says, serious as he realizes I’m beginning to cry. He reaches for me, pulling my body flush against his, cradling my head against his chest. “This is nothing to be upset about, Juliette. I mean it when I say I won’t make fun of you for it. You really did nothing to be embarrassed about. And even if you did you weren’t acting like yourself. You have to cut yourself some slack.”

“I asked you to take my clothes off,” I mumble.

I feel his chest contract under my face. “Yeah,” he says, sounding a little strained. “Not how I imagined that conversation would go to be quite honest.”

I punch him on the ribs making him laugh.

“Thank you for staying,” I say leaning away from him, suddenly desperate to change the subject. “Your dad isn’t mad right?”

He shakes his head, pushes my hair out of my face. “I don’t think he’s noticed I’m gone. He’s not around a lot these days.”

“Well,” I say. “Thank you anyways, you really didn’t need to stay.”

“Yes, I did,” he says. 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” I ask looking up at him.

He smiles a sad kind of smile. “Do you really need to ask?”

My heart is pounding inside my chest so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. And in the darkness of the room I find it easy to say, “Maybe I just want to hear you say it.” 

At that he turns into his side. Holding himself up with his elbow he takes my face in between his hands, forcing me to look at him. I look into his eyes, so green and emotive as he says, “I love you, Juliette. I love you, and I know I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve tried to keep a certain distance from you because of my father. I know you know how he feels about you and it would not be fair for me to expect you to put up with him for me. But it’s also not fair of me to want you to wait for“ 

I sit up, getting eye-to-eye with him. “Aaron no, please do not apologize for that. It’s not unfair.” 

“Juliette—”

I put my finger to his lips silencing him. “Just listen, okay?” When he doesn’t say anything I continue. “I know things with your family have always been hard. I get that, I really do. And I know you want to... _protect_ me from it. And I love you for that. I love you for _so many_ reasons. And I’d wait for you. I’d wait for as long as we needed to to be away from all of this bullshit.” I brush a strand of hair away from his forehead, running my fingers all the way down his hairs until I reach his neck. “We graduate in two months, and when we’re gone it’s just going to be us.” 

“Different schools,” he says, resting his hands on my waist, “different schedules.” 

I shrug. “We’ll make it work. Don’t you trust us?”

He smiles then, slowly. A full smile that shows his dimples. His face is so beautiful I want to put my head through a wall. “I do.” 

“It’s settled then,” I whisper. 

His grip on my hips tighten making me gasp. He pulls me towards him and I gasp. “What if I don’t want to wait two months?” he asks, his face so close to mine out noses touch. “What if I’m tired of caring what my father says about us? What if I want you right now?” 

A hot, dizzying sensation floods through my body. The part of my brain responsible for rational thought decided to take a sabbatical. _Say something say something say something, come on Juliette, just say something._

My lips part but no words come out. He takes the opportunity to brush his thumb over my bottom lip, the very tip of it sneaking inside my mouth and grazing against my teeth. 

“What if then, Juliette? Do _you_ want to wait? Do _you_ care?” 

And because I’m apparently incapable of speech, I take his hand from my lips and lean forward to kiss him instead. 

He moves his lips against mine, slowly at first, then he wraps one hand around my waist—pulling me so impossibly closer—and his other hand meets the back of my head, taking a fistful of my hair as he uses his tongue to nudge my mouth open and I think I die at that very moment. 

There is no other explanation. Every other reasonable conclusion I come to is not enough to explain the things I am feeling right now. A wave of pleasure so white it blinds me goes straight to my brain and back down to every nerve ending in my body. 

I push myself up to my knees and crawl over him. He gasp against my mouth and it is like jumping into a pool on a very hot day. Like the first rays on sunshine on your skin on a brisk morning. 

His hands sneak under the bottom of my shirt, spreading along my back. The tips of his fingers move lightly over my skin.

I’m suddenly terrified, terrified that I’m going to wake up from this dream and I almost ask him to pinch me but he does something better. He nuzzles his face against my neck and bites the exposed skin of my shoulder and I know certainly that he is here.

Aaron Warner Anderson is here, under my hands and all around me, doing things to me that I don’t have enough words to name. 

He kisses my mouth again, so gently. 

And it’s like that for a moment, slow and gentle and tender. So tender. 

And then it changes. 

We’re fumbling out of our clothes. I’m only in my bra and underwear when he wraps my legs around him and dips me back into the bed. He’s hovering over me, naked from the waist up, I’m about to comment the unfairness of his stage on undress since he still is wearing pants when he asks, “You still take your birth control?” 

I cock my head at that. I barely remember mentioning in passing a year and a half ago when I has to start taking it to control control my endometriosis. 

“How do you remember that?” I ask surprised.

“Remember that you have a serious medical condition that gave you severe pain once a month?” he asks, as if it were obvious that of course he remembers.

I nod.

“I remember everything about you.”

“I see. Yes, I still take it.” 

He nods. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, brushing his hand over the side of my face. “I meant everything I said, and if you rather wait until—”

“No, I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t care what he has to say,” I say, lifting my head off the mattress to kiss him again. A slow, delicate kiss. A kiss that says “I love you. I want to do everything with you.” 

He reaches behind me unhooking my bra and slowly pulling the straps down my arms until it all comes off. He throws it away to the side nonchalantly. I must be smiling because he smiles back at me and holds my face in his hands. I turn slightly to press a kiss against his fingers before be takes me chin and makes me face him again so he can claim my mouth again. He tugs at my bottom lip with his teeth and my hips raise instinctively from the bed brushing against him. 

“God, Juliette—”

“Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you,” he says kissing his way down my body. “I love you, I love you.”

“I love you, Aaron,” I say as he continues to kiss down my body until his nose reaches my navel and I can’t do anything anymore to contain the moans that have broken their cage and are running free from my throat. 

“Don’t hold back,” he says, looking up at me as he hooks his fingers on the elastic band on my underwear and beings to tug down. “I want to see you lose control.” 

My underwear is now down to my ankles and Aaron sits up to take it from me completely before lowering himself back on top of me again. He runs one of his hands up and down the outside of my thigh, the inside of it. Then his hand goes higher and he does something that makes me cry out and cover my mouth with my forearm. He uses his free hand to pry it off my face and pin it above me. 

“I can’t, Aaron, I—“

“You can,” he says, his voice so calm and collected as I’m going insane, writhing and trembling uncontrollably under him, and oh god I hate him, I hate him so much and I never want to be parted from him. I want to fuse both our bodies together just like this for all of eternity. “Just let go.” 

His movements change rhythm and I swear I could start sobbing in this very moment from the sheer heat of it. 

Then he takes his hand away from me and I _do_ sob. Once. 

He sits back up and starts unbuttoning his pants. I can’t do nothing but look at him. Every time I see him I’m struck by his beauty. His face so finely crafted, strong and defined jaw, straight nose, and full golden brows. His mouth so beautiful and soft. His eyes the most mesmerizing shade of green. 

And his body. 

God, his body.

It just doesn’t make sense that he looks like that. 

I could die right here looking at it and I’d be fine with it. 

I have a feeling that seeing him naked is not something I’m going to get used to any time soon. 

I can tell that he’s starting to lose control too. His hands shake and he reaches for me again. His adam’s apple moving up and down his throat. 

He parts my legs, so slowly, settling between them. I close my eyes as he leans down, places a kiss on the tip of my nose, my forehead, my eyelids, and both my cheeks. He laughs a nervous laugh and I open my eyes to look at him. His eyes are bright when he takes my hand and brings it between us to place it over his heart. I can feel it beating wildly under his skin.

“Mine too,” I whisper. 

“It’s yours,” he says softly. “It’s all for you.”

And then he kisses me again, our hands still intertwined over our hearts as we lose ourselves in one another.

**Juliette - 10:32 am**

I wake up with one of Aaron’s arms under my head. I turn to look at him; he’ sleeping on his stomach, the arm not trapped under my body clutching a pillow to his side. I can’t help the smile that forms in my face. I run my fingers down the defined lines on his back, just once. I remember that he didn’t get any sleep the night before looking over that tragic version of myself, so I stop my explorations of his body to avoid accidentally waking him up. 

Instead I reach for my phone, which is lying dead on the bedside table. I grab my phone charger and plug it in. It takes a few moments for it to turn back on, but when it does my home screen immediately floods with notifications. A couple of texts from Nazeera asking if I was feeling better, a couple from Lily and Adam asking what had happened, and—unsurprisingly—forty eight texts and three missed calls from Kenji.

I read the last couple of them that shown on my screen without scrolling up.

Kenji: !!!!

Kenji: princess??

Kenji: should i send the POLICE????? 

Kenji: hello???? nazeera said you probs okay and that i should let u rest 

Fifteen minutes after that he continued with:

Kenji: calls are going straight to voice mail 

Kenji: Warner isn’t picking up the phone either bitch ANSWER MEEE 

Kenji: you guys fucking or what

Kenji: don’t read that last one

After that he sent a string a crying emojis and then,

Kenji: i was kdding don’t hate me please i know that’s a sensitive topic 

If only he knew. 

But then again, why shouldn’t he know? We’ve talked about what he likes to call the “Warner and Juliette entanglement” to exhaustion, and he has just been waiting for the last couple of months for one of us to give in. Aaron and I agreed that we were officially dating before we fell asleep this morning, and we didn’t say anything about keeping it a secret. Why shouldn’t my best friend know? Even if I didn’t say anything, Kenji is Kenji and the moment he sees my face tomorrow in school he’s going to know exactly what happened. He can see right through me like that. 

The three dots indicating that he’s typing again appear on my screen, and before he can say anything I text back, 

Me: yeah, about that actually

The three dots disappear. Appear. Disappear again.

Then,

Kenji: huh?

Me: ^^^ ?

Kenji: oH

Kenji: wait

Kenji: JULIETTE YOU DID NOT 

Kenji: PLEASE SAY SIKE 

Kenji: I’M SCREAMING AR EYOJ FOR REAL???? 

KENJI: I MANIFESTED IT 

I text back innocently.

Me: Whatever do you mean, good sir? 

Kenji: don’t play with me J i’ve been waiting for this moment for so long

Me: you have? 

Me: gross :/

Kenji: not /that/ you idiot!!!!!!!!!! i actually didn’t need to know that part you know? you want me to be scarred for life??

Me: you literally asked

Kenji: twas a joek

Kenji: joke*

Me: you’re a horrible typer

Kenji: you’re a horrible friend 

Me: :(

Kenji: jk you know i love yoj with my whole entire heart <333333

Me: you*

Kenji: fuck you 

Kenji: but seriously tho, is it official?

Me: yes

Kenji: did he say the L word

Kenji: i bet he did his ass is dramatic like that

Kenji: no wait don’t tell me i want to bully you in person about it

His reaction to this whole ordeal is as heartwarming as it is unexpectedly enthusiastic. I can’t help but smile when I text him back. 

Me: i’ll admit you’re more invested in this i thought you’d be

Kenji: well i’m just happy i’m going to be able to have lunch without you both PINNING for each other across the table

Kenji: that shit was mad uncomfortable 

I laugh quietly—and a little guilt—at that. 

Me: sorry 

Kenji: i forgive u 

Kenji: but really though, i’m happy for u guys

Kenji: but I s2g if you turn into those couple that make out in the middle of the hallway i'm going to beat both your asses 

Me: you couldn’t beat my ass if i had ten of them 

Kenji: bet? 

Me: anyway

Me: i’m going back to sleep i’m tired still, i’ll see u tomorrow 

Kenji: that good huh

Me: i’m blocking your number

Kenji: i know where you live you can’t get rid of me 

Me: goodnight 

I put my phone back down on the table and turn to look at Aaron again. The sun has come up higher on the sky now and the light is hitting his hair and the skin of his back, giving the entirety of him a golden glow that makes my breath catch. He’s beautiful. He’s so beautiful and he’s here and he’s mine and in my arms and I’m going to keep it forever that way. 

I nuzzle against him, unable to resist the temptation of being close to him. He stirs awake and turns to face me. His eyes are slow to focus, but when they do he smiles. 

Dimples.

I lean towards him to kiss his smile. 

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi.”

He turns me around and pulls me towards him until my back is pressed against his chest and my legs tangled with his. 

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the morning?” he asks.

I laugh at that. “Are you kidding? I’m probably a mess right now.”

“Still beautiful.”

I turn my face to look at him. “So you admit I’m a mess?”

He kisses me instead of answering, but I’m too happy to care.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: if you're here you might've read my other fanfic series. If you have and are wondering where the update is, don't worry, it'll come soon (or eventually). You've probably noticed that the world's kinda shit right now, and I didn't want to write about another shitty world. So I wrote this silly thing instead.  
> Anyways, hope you all enjoyed it <3


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